Today
Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. This day brings up all kinds of emotions for me. Naturally, it makes me think about the baby that I lost two years ago. It was a miscarriage- though I don't like that term- miscarriage. "I miscarried a baby" makes it sound like I didn't carry the baby like I should have. Like it was my fault or something. Like I didn't do everything that I should have to grow a baby for 9 months.
I start to get a little anxious this time of year because I know I'll start to think in depth about it all over again. Of course I think about the baby other times than this time of year, though not as often as I used to if I'm being honest. When it all happened, I thought that I would think about him/her every single day of my life. But I actually don't. I feel guilty saying that, but it's the truth. I'm in a very happy place, and when I think about what might have been, sadness washes over me. I'm not a person who lets sadness come over me often. (Just ask my husband- he calls me the ice princess.) But just because I don't allow myself to think about him or her often, doesn't mean I'll ever forget. It all replays very clearly to me. The image of the sonogram. The ultrasound technician's sweet, sympathetic voice as she told me. The drive from Ft. Worth to Granbury alone- barely able to see the road through my tears. The surgery. The hormones. The strange feeling of knowing that the baby was still inside me for two days, but not alive. The only way I can think to describe it is sad. It's all just very, very sad. And it's sad that so many women know exactly what I'm talking about. But when I look at Fielder's big blue eyes, I know that things are exactly as they should be, and without things happening as they did, he wouldn't be here. That's the peace in it all. He's my rainbow baby. If you're not familiar with the term, a rainbow baby is born after the loss of another baby. They're called rainbow babies because a rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of good things to come. I'm very aware that I'm blessed to have him. Some women aren't as lucky as I am- and they're still awaiting their rainbows. Whether their rainbows come in the form of a baby or something else, a lot of women are still stuck in the storm. If you know somebody who today means a lot to, let them know you're thinking about them. And if you know someone who is currently weathering the storm, please pray for their rainbow.
I start to get a little anxious this time of year because I know I'll start to think in depth about it all over again. Of course I think about the baby other times than this time of year, though not as often as I used to if I'm being honest. When it all happened, I thought that I would think about him/her every single day of my life. But I actually don't. I feel guilty saying that, but it's the truth. I'm in a very happy place, and when I think about what might have been, sadness washes over me. I'm not a person who lets sadness come over me often. (Just ask my husband- he calls me the ice princess.) But just because I don't allow myself to think about him or her often, doesn't mean I'll ever forget. It all replays very clearly to me. The image of the sonogram. The ultrasound technician's sweet, sympathetic voice as she told me. The drive from Ft. Worth to Granbury alone- barely able to see the road through my tears. The surgery. The hormones. The strange feeling of knowing that the baby was still inside me for two days, but not alive. The only way I can think to describe it is sad. It's all just very, very sad. And it's sad that so many women know exactly what I'm talking about. But when I look at Fielder's big blue eyes, I know that things are exactly as they should be, and without things happening as they did, he wouldn't be here. That's the peace in it all. He's my rainbow baby. If you're not familiar with the term, a rainbow baby is born after the loss of another baby. They're called rainbow babies because a rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of good things to come. I'm very aware that I'm blessed to have him. Some women aren't as lucky as I am- and they're still awaiting their rainbows. Whether their rainbows come in the form of a baby or something else, a lot of women are still stuck in the storm. If you know somebody who today means a lot to, let them know you're thinking about them. And if you know someone who is currently weathering the storm, please pray for their rainbow.
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